Although he had missed her maiden voyage, Goebeler accompanied U-505 on every subsequent war patrol she made, right up to the grand finale on June 4, 1944, when he would risk his life to sink his own ship.

Subscribe Today

• Did you enjoy our article?
• Read more in World War II magazine
• Subscribe online and save nearly 40%!!!
 

Goebeler’s first war patrol not only severely tested his nerves but also sorely tested his physical endurance. Smaller and younger than most of his mates, Goebeler had to work twice as hard to match the performance of the more seasoned members of the crew. ‘I hadn’t gained my `sea legs’ yet and needed to adjust to seasickness,’ Goebeler explains. ‘On that first mission, we went through very heavy weather. But no matter how sick someone was, he had to do his duty without mistakes in the control room. Even if everything was rolling 30 degrees from side to side, he must do things perfectly, or he could sink the boat. In a way, I was lucky the weather was so heavy because when you start things the hard way, it’s easier for you later on. Even so, some men never adjusted. One petty officer returned to duty on destroyers because he never got used to the motions of a submarine.’

That first war patrol, which lasted from February 11 to May 7, 1942, took U-505 to the West African coast near Freetown. There she operated as a lone wolf, crisscrossing the sea lanes in search of ships supplying the Allied forces fighting Field Marshal Erwin Rommel in North Africa. At that time, the pickings were still easy for German submarines, and the crew of U-505 was eager to return to Lorient with a conning tower full of victory pennants, as an answer to the good-natured teasing they had received from veteran crews. They did not have to wait long. On the evening of May 5, they spotted the 6,000-ton British freighter Ben Mohr heading for Freetown without escort. Firing three torpedoes, U-505 made her first kill. Over the next few weeks, Loewe used his remaining torpedoes to send two more freighters and a tanker to the bottom of the sea, for a total of 26,000 tons sunk.

The patrol was not without its moments of danger for U-505. The submarine was constantly harassed by Allied aircraft and escort ships, and the crew endured several bombing and depth-charge attacks. At one point, a technical failure caused the relief valve on diving tank No. 7 to stick in the closed position. The resultant imbalance of weight caused the U-boat to float on the surface with its stern sticking up into the air at a 40-degree angle. The crew experienced several anxious moments before Loewe could get the boat on an even keel and dive to escape an approaching British Short Sunderland flying boat. Loewe’s handling of the incident impressed Goebeler. ‘This was one time when a Kapitän would have been justified for yelling, but he remained cool and calm,’ Goebeler recalls. ‘We had a lot of respect for the Kapitän’s self-control, even though our boat looked like an ostrich, with our head buried in the water and our tail up in the air!’

In another incident illustrating his leadership, Loewe sailed U-505 across the equator during a lull in the mission, allowing the men to perform the time-honored initiation rituals of Neptune. By the time U-505 reached its base in Lorient, the 50 men on board were a proud and professional crew. Shared dangers, pride in their successful run and confidence in their captain had all combined to produce the kind of team spirit that would be needed to survive the terrifying events to come.

U-505’s safe return to base was a cause for celebration in Lorient. But there was also a deep sense of relief because the Bay of Biscay, patrolled by growing numbers of prowling Allied bombers, was rapidly becoming known as ‘the graveyard of the U-boats.’

To keep morale high in the face of mounting losses, the naval high command ensured that U-boat crews enjoyed luxuries unavailable to fighting men in the other branches of the German armed forces. Goebeler remembers his days in Lorient with nostalgic satisfaction: ‘The navy really treated us first class. They had a band there to greet us, and we had lots of time to relax. Of course, we had constant training to learn about new equipment, but we were free during many evenings to enjoy the town. There was a soldiers’ theater where we could see German movies, and they made sure we had plenty of fresh fruits, white bread, sausages and beer. And not the ersatz beer that everyone else drank; we had the real thing! And there were women, too. There was a place soldiers could go where the women were inspected regularly so that they wouldn’t get…sick. But there were so many French girls that I never had to go there. The French treated us U-boat men very well, even after the British started bombing the place.’

Help HistoryNet by bookmarking to